


Indulgence

by CaptainSatanpants



Category: Mumintroll | Moomins Series - Tove Jansson
Genre: Daddy Kink, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Parent/Child Incest, Pregnancy, Rimming, intersex Snufkin, slight abo dynamics - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-20
Updated: 2019-09-20
Packaged: 2020-10-24 13:53:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20707097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainSatanpants/pseuds/CaptainSatanpants
Summary: Joxter never supposed he’d be stuck somewhere, especially in the summer. His feet ache with the want to be on the road again, scouting for a new place to rest his head. The pack he carries has seen little use since the flowers bloomed in spring, and it’s on mornings like these that he believes there’s naught to tie him to the ground save for the scent of his mate drifting over the sweet grass.





	Indulgence

**Author's Note:**

> Don't mind me, just casually irrevocably sealing my place in hell. My throne awaits me.
> 
> Thanks to Dill, Yoon, and SnackPal in Discord for dragging me into this 😂

Joxter never supposed he’d be stuck somewhere, especially in the summer. His feet ache with the want to be on the road again, scouting for a new place to rest his head. The pack he carries has seen little use since the flowers bloomed in spring, and it’s on mornings like these that he believes there’s naught to tie him to the ground save for the scent of his mate drifting over the sweet grass. 

His nose twitches along with the line as the breeze surrounds him with delicate amber, sending a pleased shiver down his spine. Perhaps settling isn’t the worst thing to do for a summer. After all, he’s promised Snufkin that he’ll do what he can to keep his kits safe. There’s really nowhere they’re safer than here, and listening to his mate’s harmonica dancing over the water under the moonlight isn’t so bad.

Gold breaks over the distant hills to illuminate the tawny fur on his forearms as a fish takes his bait. Joxter very nearly misses it, caught up in thoughts about what he’d like to do with Snufkin today. He can’t do anything without breakfast, though, and it’s a battle to land the fish on the bank. His tail twitches as he works the hook from its mouth and hits it once, twice before it takes its final, gasping breath.

He hums on his way up the bank. It’s a simple little melody, but it’s enough to cause a shuffling in their tent he recognizes as Snufkin sitting up below their furs. A whining yawn winds its way down the hill and his lips lift in a smile. “Snufkin,” he says. “Come see the sun.”

“You come see  _ your  _ son,” comes an answering growl.

“Tetchy,” Joxter says. 

“Papa.”

“Boy,” Joxter says, and there’s the merest hint of a warning in his voice before he sets the fish on a stump and pokes his head between the tent flaps. “What do you want?”

Snufkin’s hand rests idly on the gentle swell of his stomach, eyes half-lidded as he stares at his father. “A peach or an apple would be nice.”

“You’ll have to get your own,” Joxter says with a sniff. “I brought fish.”

“Fish.” Snufkin’s nose crinkles as he yawns once more, pulling the furs back over his face when he relaxes. “You keep it.”

“You’re going to have it anyway, because I promised to make sure my children stay healthy.” Joxter extends a hand to brush his fingers over the edges of their bed, not quite reaching where Snufkin’s feet are curled. “Will you listen?”

“Mm.”

Joxter sits back on his haunches, silent and wide-eyed until he waits for his son to look back at him. When he does, Joxter blinks once, slowly. “I promised.”

Peering over the edges of the furs, Snufkin shuffles a few inches down before letting the deep brown fall away to reveal a slowly growing belly. “I know, Papa,” he says, motioning Joxter forward. “It’s the least you could do, after all.”

“Wrong.” Joxter huffs as he sits and leans down onto one elbow, his face coming to rest only a few inches from Snufkin’s stomach. The same amber embraces him, warming him as he breathes deep the smell he’s come to learn as  _ family.  _ It entrances him, draws him in until his nose is brushing up against the downy barely-there fur not quite hiding the way a limb pushes out toward him. “I could’ve gone on my merry way,” he says softly, “forgotten about everything here.”

“You w--”

“I’m not--” Joxter begins, dragging his eyes to Snufkin’s-- “going to do that again.”

Snufkin reaches down to card his fingers through the hair escaping Joxter’s hat. “Not now that you’ve gone and mated me properly.” He lets his head tip to the side to bare the yellowing mark from where his father all but savaged his bond mark when they’d decided  _ kits  _ meant it was time for something more than the occasional fuck. “I wouldn’t let you.”

Joxter nips lightly at Snufkin’s chest to hide the way he’s smiling. “It’s my wildness in you.”

“It’s your children in me.”

“Mm.” Joxter angles his head up to press a kiss to the underside of his son’s jaw, nosing against the light smattering of fur he grows. Snufkin reclines back and he follows, planting a hand on the other side of Snufkin’s chest as he brings their lips together properly. He’d be lying if he said it didn’t please him to see Snufkin full up with his progeny. “Wildness.”

“Funny,” Snufkin says, lips tugging up in a smile when they break. “I didn’t realize Mumriks were in the business of settling down. I think you’re a little less wild than you think.” 

“Nonsense,” Joxter purrs. He gives the quickest of bites to Snufkin’s bottom lip before pulling away and straightening his hat. There’s no point in catching fish if you’re going to forget it in the sun, after all, and he will not let it spoil because he was distracted by the silent promise of more than a kiss.

Ignoring the mewling ‘come back,’ he ventures into the day once more to clean and prepare their breakfast. Scales shimmer silver on the ground as he listens carefully to the sounds of Snufkin getting up properly. He’s prepared a small fire, and sticks a sharpened branch through the fish for roasting.

“It’s just like you to get me riled and leave,” Snufkin mutters as he sits beside Joxter on the log. “Kiss me and have me thinking all sorts of ways.”

Joxter simply looks into the fire as he turns the makeshift spit.

Snufkin leans against him, rubbing his cheek over Joxter’s shoulder to mark him. “Are you going to finish what you started?”

“Not until our bellies are full.” 

“And I’m sure you didn’t find me any fruit.” The fur on Joxter’s forearms ripples with the force of Snufkin’s sigh before the boy resigns himself to his fate and stands. “I’ll go find some myself, then.”

“Sit down,” Joxter says.

“I won’t.”

Joxter watches as Snufkin walks away, one hand cradling his stomach and the other buried in his hair in an attempt to make it lay flat. “You won’t be able to reach,” he calls.

Snufkin attempts anyway, his grunt of frustration at realizing Joxter’s right amusing the older Mumrik. “I can- _ get it--”  _ he strains. He presses up on the very tips of his toes as he reaches, still falling short. “Papa.”

“You’re incredibly impatient,” Joxter says. 

“I’m incredibly  _ hungry.” _

Joxter clicks his tongue and sticks the free end of the branch in the ground before meandering over to Snufkin. He brushes the rough pads of his fingers over Snufkin’s stomach before dropping lower, down beneath the waist of his pants that he’s taken to wearing untied. “Indeed,” he murmurs when he finds his mate wet. “Foolish Joxter, thinking of my kits’ wellbeing.”

“Come off it and let me be selfish for the morning.” Snufkin’s head lolls back, his mouth seeking Joxter’s pulse to worry the skin there. “I want an apple.”

“Fine, fine, fine.” In a flash, Joxter scales the tree and picks the juiciest looking one. “Here,” he says as he examines it. Minimal worm damage, skin shining merrily… He deems it satisfactory and leaps back to the ground to present it with both hands. “Have an apple.”

“That wasn’t so hard now, was it?” Snufkin asks. The fruit crunches between his teeth, Joxter paying rapt attention to the way his eyelids flutter in pleasure. He cocks his head in consideration as he watches a tiny bit of juice bead on his mate’s lips and before Snufkin can move to wipe it away, he darts forward to lick it off for him.

It bursts sweet on his tongue, sweet like he knows Snufkin will taste later when he’s lapping between his thighs. “Not so bad,” he acquiesces. “Sit and eat with me.”

“Sit and eat  _ me,”  _ Snufkin murmurs in his ear. “Won’t take that long~”

Joxter’s paw falls to rest on the outside of Snufkin’s stomach as he buries his face in his son’s neck. “Would that make you happy?”  
_“Yes.”_

“In the tent, then. Make yourself comfortable,” Joxter says. When he pulls away, Snufkin sways slightly, leaning forward in search of his lips once more. “Wait your turn, boy. You’ll get what’s coming.” He watches the roll of Snufkin’s hips with each step down the hill, and shakes his head to clear it when the flap of the tent slips shut. “Leaves, leaves,” he mutters, scanning the surrounding area for one large enough to roll the fish in. When he finds one, it’s a  _ long  _ minute before he stashes the food away and peers in to see Snufkin curled in the corner.

Though his mate’s scent is cloying, prickling at his nose and setting his blood to burning, Joxter doesn’t know he wants to disturb his son’s peace. His head is pillowed on his hat, chin resting on the hands he’s got tucked under him like he picked up from his father. He’s already shed his shirt, so the only things keeping Joxter from delving in immediately are Snufkin’s pants and the petulant stare he’s fixed him with. 

“What’s this about?” he croons, kneeling and extending a hand to tangle his fingers with Snufkin’s. 

“You’re still dressed, and I’m nearly soaking through the fabric,” Snufkin says crossly. “I need you.”

“Ah,” Joxter says. “I suppose we’ll have to remedy that, then.” Gently, he disentangles his hand to brush it across his son’s cheek. Pink dusts the skin and Snufkin  _ tries  _ not to nuzzle up into Joxter’s hand, he really does, but fails in a spectacular fashion after a few seconds. “You look precious like this, you know, all full up with my kits.”

Snufkin presses his lips to Joxter’s palm before tugging him down to lay face-to-face. “I’d feel it more if you’d touch me, Papa.” His fingers unfurl from under his chin to press his father’s hand to the curve of his belly, where one kit or another seems to reach for the contact. “Please,” he whispers, and the way his voice sends a chill down Joxter’s spine has him wondering how he ever survived without it. 

Joxter doesn’t answer, simply captures Snufkin’s mouth in a quiet, exploratory kiss. He massages at the mark over the glands on the back of Snufkin’s neck as he licks into the seam of his mouth, drawing out a hushed whine as his son is all but overwhelmed with the feeling of being  _ claimed. _

Of being Joxter’s.

His lips part with a gasp, canting his hips toward Joxter the best he can with his growing stomach between them. “I’m going to ruin these pants,” he says, brow knitting. “Take them off of me.”

“Quite demanding this morning,” Joxter whispers.

“Quite cranky.”

“I suppose I’ll let it go.” Joxter shuffles down while laying a line of hot, open-mouthed kisses down Snufkin’s neck and stomach. The skin of his chest is littered with old marks from where he’s claimed his territory prior, each one forming a map of the myriad ways he’s taken back what is and has always been his. He smiles as he looks up at them, meeting Snufkin’s eyes in the dim light of the tent they call home. “Would you like very much for me to fuck you, boy?”

Snufkin rolls onto his back upon Joxter’s gentle guidance, resting a hand over his eyes as his pants are tossed to the side. “Yes,” he whines. “I want you to fill me.”

“Tch, my cock is for good boys,” Joxter says. “You’ve been greedy today, haven’t you?”

“Ahh~” Snufkin breathes. He relaxes slightly at the first touch of Joxter’s fingers at his drenched entrance. “‘S only because I love you.”

“Regardless…” Joxter trails off, words evaporating at the way Snufkin’s hips twitch closer to his fingers. “Mm.” He kisses the soft thatch of hair just above the younger Mumrik’s aching slit. “I don’t think you’ll have it today. I don’t particularly feel like fucking you.” He teases at the wetness as Snufkin protests, dragging two fingers achingly slow over the crease in his folds, never where either of them really wants it the most. “Think of the kits, after all.”

“They’ll be fine,” Snufkin all but cries.  _ “Please,  _ Papa, I need it~”

Amber and musk and honey burst on Joxter’s tongue as he swipes it over Snufkin in a broad stroke. His eyes shut, free hand fisting in the furs below them because it tastes so  _ good.  _ He wants nothing more than to busy himself here for hours, lapping and suckling at his son’s sweet little cunt, but the heel digging into his shoulder insists otherwise. When he cracks an eye and tips his head to the side, Snufkin’s breathing heavily with eyes blown wide. 

“Don’t stop,” he murmurs, pleading. “Not now.”

Joxter dips his head once more. He’s got his legs spread and his cock grinds against the fabric of his pants as he gently pushes hips into the ground, seeking to remedy the ache between his legs. While normally he doesn’t prefer it, he allows Snufkin to lose himself and bury a hand in his hair, tugging slightly whenever Joxter teases him with a bit of tongue. His paws tighten on Snufkin’s hips and pull him closer, taking back at least a bit of control.

Quickly, Snufkin’s pleading turns to demands. “Fuck me,” he orders as he presses Joxter’s face flush against him. “Fuck me, fuck me, hard,  _ fuck~”  _ He yelps, frustrated, as Joxter pulls completely away with a growl.  _ “Daddy.” _

Joxter’s eyes flash as he licks the slick from his lips and chin. He swallows slowly, watching as arousal, anger,  _ fear  _ flash through his son’s eyes in the long seconds before he speaks. “Boy.”

“I just want you,” Snufkin says. His eyes dip down to the wet stain on the front of Joxter’s pants. “Every part.”

Rolling back to sit on his heels, Joxter flicks his gaze over Snufkin trembling below him. “Get on your knees,” he says. “Now.” As Snufkin struggles upright, Joxter taps his fingers on his arm in impatience. “Turn around.”

“Pa--”

“Now,” Joxter says icily, and Snufkin obeys. His pulse races under Joxter’s thumb as his hand comes to rest on his son’s neck, giving the softest squeeze until Snufkin’s breath hitches. “What have I said about demanding things of me, boy?”

“Not to do it too often,” Snufkin breathes.

Joxter grinds into the cleft of Snufkin’s ass, biting back a groan as the wet heat threatens to drive him to madness. “And besides tempt me, what have you done since waking this morning?”

“A-asked for things, Daddy,” Snufkin says, and Joxter’s hand falls to the top of his stomach as he tells him what a good boy he is to remember. “It’s so hard to be around you and not  _ want,”  _ he continues. “To not need.”

“Mmm.” Joxter’s teeth dance along the edge of the mating mark, pricking at the skin before he sinks them in, causing Snufkin to jerk in his embrace. His tongue flicks over fading bruises as he makes a new one, proof of their bond and of his promise to take proper care of his son. “Bend over.”

Snufkin goes willingly when he’s released. He buries his head in his arms on the furs, legs spread around his stomach as he arches his back. “Please,” he whispers, and Joxter  _ should  _ leave him like this for his insolence.

But that would be no fun, and Snufkin sounds sorry enough for now.

His boy’s holes twitch when he exhales slowly over them, the steady stream of air cool as it hits the wet flesh. A soft whimper escapes Snufkin to wind its way down Joxter’s spine and send a shudder through him as he bows to lap at his son once more. He hums against Snufkin’s lips before moving higher, his thumb pressing ever-so lightly against the rim of Snufkin’s ass. “Sounds like you’re desperate,” Joxter teases.

His mate only spreads his hips wider.

Joxter presses a bit harder, lays feather-light kisses along the tense muscle until Snufkin relaxes. His lashes flutter over the curve of Snufkin’s ass as he tilts his head for a slightly better angle, greedily licking away the slick that’s gathered there. He can feel it on his chin as Snufkin grows wetter, and brings his free hand up to slide two fingers into his partner’s wet heat. Reveling in the way Snufkin tightens and bucks against him, he begins a slow, easy rhythm of in and out, in and out as he presses his tongue flat against Snufkin’s hole. 

_ “Ohhh,”  _ Snufkin groans. A bird chirps in annoyance at the sound, but Joxter endeavors to earn it again. He dips the tip of his tongue into the quivering hole, over and over until Snufkin is an absolute mess below him. He coaxes out more moans with fingers and tongue and a few well placed sucks before he finds his hand soaked in slick, Snufkin’s orgasm overtaking him before Joxter can ease off.  _ “Daddy,”  _ the younger Mumrik keens. “Ha, Papa, unhh~”

Joxter continues to work him through it with his mouth, fumbling at the tie on his pants with his wet hands until his cock springs free in their shared warmth. It doesn’t take long until he’s coming in long, thick strokes over the small of Snufkin’s back, and when he leans back to admire his handiwork, he likes what he sees. He makes a soft noise of appreciation, smoothing his thumb over the outer curve of Snufkin’s hip before guiding his son down onto his side and murmuring soothing nothings until Snufkin pulls their lips together.

“I love you,” Snufkin says when they part. He winces as one of the kits kicks at him, but Joxter rubs his cheek over the distended skin until it quiets again. Joxter’s hair parts around his fingers once again as he digs them in and basks in the sound of Joxter’s soft purring. It vibrates through the air around them, enveloping their little corner of the valley in something inexplicably  _ cozy  _ as they rest.

Something that’s theirs.

Something like home.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Comments always read and _very_ much appreciated, and I always do my best to get back to them ❤️
> 
> You can also find me lurking and yelling about fictional characters on:  
[Twitter](https://www.twitter.com/aryagraceling)  
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